


Laundry

by HunterEnough



Series: Inktober 2018 Shorts [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-03
Updated: 2018-10-03
Packaged: 2019-07-24 12:09:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16174790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HunterEnough/pseuds/HunterEnough
Summary: Cas does Dean's laundry.





	Laundry

**Author's Note:**

> I really love this author/artist on tumblr and they happen to be running an art challenge for October. I really wish I could draw to participate in the challenge. I totally can't, but I thought, hey, maybe this could be a good list of prompts for shorts/drabbles to actually get me into writing fanfic like I keep telling myself I will… So, a fanficlet, based on the Inktober prompt: Wardrobe. (No beta, all mistakes are my own, and Supernatural and its characters unfortunately not.)

Doing Dean’s laundry while he prepared their first meal back in the bunker seemed like a more than fair trade. It felt like an intimate chore, like grooming, that might be shared with close family or a mate. He would never admit it to the hunter, but he enjoyed the task.

For the most part, Cas did not miss being human. Experiencing hunger, thirst, pain…bodily functions…he bore sadness for losing those things when he regained his grace. Some things, like replacing his suit and trench with clothes borrowed from Dean’s wardrobe, he remembered with fondness. 

Dean’s clothes were chosen for extreme practicality and comfort. Denim is durable, easily withstanding the extreme physicality of hunting without undue wear. Repeated washing seemed to just make the pants more comfortable. The way that they hung on Deans hips, clung to his muscular thighs…the fit of Dean’s jeans certainly didn’t make them less desirable as a wardrobe staple.

The variety of t-shirts, Henley thermals, and flannels were equally practical. Layering allowed for better temperature control of the body, and ensured that there was always a spare piece of clothing around to absorb blood when a wound required such attention. 

Boxer briefs, he’d learned from experience, were incredibly comfortable. Though his vessel had preferred the less formfitting boxer style in plain white cotton, the support of the tighter style was certainly a boon when running from monsters. Plus, the light friction on his most sensitive skin was certainly pleasant.

All of this he considered as he sorted through the pile of rather pungent laundry. For the most part, all of Dean’s clothes could be thrown, unsorted, into the high capacity laundry appliances (bunker additions that were as appreciated as they were difficult to achieve), but it was important to ensure that none of his FBI button downs were in the mix. Also, clothing that was particularly crusty from any form of blood or bodily fluid benefited from at least a cursory rinse, if not some actual stain treatment, before being mixed with the rest of the laundry, even with the well-loved “heavy soil” setting.

Still though, Cas had to admit that his favorite part of both doing the laundry and borrowing Dean’s clothing was the scent. He had learned that the communal detergent and fabric softener contributed, but regardless of the recency of washing, a certain something that was pure Dean was evident in each whiff of the fabric. It was scintillating and more that slightly addicting. The joy of the experience was heightened considerably when the hunter occasionally shared clothes straight from his form, most often for cold related reasons.

Clothing properly sorted, Cas merrily stuffed the washer to the recommended load level, closed the door, and attended to the precise measurement of the detergent and softener. Selecting each function: normal fabrics, heavy soil, warm wash and rinse, high spin, then start. Now, he had at one hour and 19 minutes before the wash cycle was complete.

“Cas, come on buddy, burgers are getting cold. What’s taking you so long?” Hearing Dean’s call from the kitchen, Cas tucked the duffel onto the top of the laundry cupboards with the laundry basket and hurried to join the brothers.


End file.
